Our neighborhood is rural but there are a number of well-to-do families scattered about. The reason I mention that is that people frequently associate rural with a bunch of hillbillies. Not so here. The family next door is a mom with a master's degree in finance with a teen-age boy and two much younger daughters. Her husband died in a commercial plane crash several years earlier and a sharp lawyer did his stuff and she is now set for life financially. I'm certain she'd rather have her hubby back than the money but since that is impossible she is comfortable knowing she won't have to worry about where the next meal is coming from.
The boy, Bobbie, is nineteen and skinny as a rail. He would never be described as good looking but he does have a nice personality. I'm Jim and a forty seven-year old bisexual and the kid can turn me on when I see him working around his yard. He's cute and has a nice ass. So far he looks to me for the guidance a father would normally provide. I have taught him: the art of hitting a pitched baseball, hitting a decent drive on the golf course, skiing and fishing for the bass in our nearby lakes among a ton of other little things. However, he does hang all over me when I am near him and that both turns me on and off.
I love camping and there is a great spot a couple of hours from where we live. It is right by a rather large lake holding some wonderful bass. I thought of inviting the boy on a camping/fishing overnighter and perhaps see if anything else would come of it. I asked him if he would like to go and he jumped at the chance. His mom also approved so we were set. It took as three hours on Saturday morning to get there and we found a super spot. It was close to the lake and the next nearest campsite was more than a quarter mile away.
He had the tent pitched and the fire started when I was getting the rest of the campsite cleared off.
"Hey Bob, get the campfire ready for some kind of cooking. We are going to need to be able to hang or rest our pots on something while they are cooking."
"Sure Jim. The stew pot has a hanging bail and I can rig up something to hang it from over the fire.'
We were sitting around just staring at the fire when I asked him if he was getting any.
"What do you mean getting any?" He replied.
"I mean pussy your idiot What else would it be?"
He started down at his feet and mumbled something that I took to be a no.
"Do you date?"
"Not really. Girls don't like me and I am nervous around them."
"So all you do is jack off?"
"Yeah, and not much of that either."
"Why not, when I was your age I was either after pussy or beating my meat big time."
"I'm kind of small there. It's hard for me to grab it."
"Really, how small?"
"Aw, I don't know. A lot smaller that what I saw on the guys in the locker room at school"
"Take it out and let's see."
He mumbled something and finally reached in his jeans and fished out a cock that couldn't have been more than an inch soft. Whew, he did have a problem.
"How big are you Jim?"
"Well, take a look." As I fished it out. I am about seven and a half inches hard and about four and a half soft so there was a significant difference between us.
"Wow, you are huge. Does it get much bigger when you are hard?"
"What don't you put a hand over her on it and stroke it a bit to see what you can get it to do?"
"Aw, I couldn't do that."
"Why not Bobbie? C'mon help me out." I asked.
I reached over and led his hand to let it rest on my lap atop my still soft cock. He started to stroke it very lightly with just a couple of fingers and it began to come to life. I sure didn't want any immediate response for fear it would scare him off.
"I think it is starting to get hard." He said.
"You have magic hands Bob. Keep going and you will have it rock hard in a few minutes."
It didn't take much more and it was standing straight out. "Stroke it hard now Bob."
I thought I was going to have to give him some more encouragement but he didn't need any. He was stroking away as well as I could have ever hoped for. His eyes hadn't left the head of it and he was flushed and licking his lips. I didn't think I would be lucky enough to get him to use his mouth on the first time we were this close but there was always the chance.
"Bob, stroke me harder and perhaps a little faster."
That was all it took. He was beating my meat as only a first timer could do. His head was flailing around as his hand went a little crazy. I could feel the heat coming from deep inside of me and knew it wouldn't take much more before I was unloading.
"Bob, do you want me to shoot in your hands or on the ground? If we knew each other better I would let you take it in your mouth."
"Oh, are you going to shoot your stuff soon?"
Just as he said that the first stream came pouring out of me. I turned slightly and it and the rest of my load was soon shooting all over the ground between us.
"Oh my God. I had never seen anything like that before. When I jack off I shoot just a little bit."
"Well, I have you to thank. You really made me feel good." I praised him.
"C'mere and lay your head on my shoulder Bob. You are a great young man. Did you enjoy doing that for me?"
"Jim, I don't know what to say but I did. Does that make me queer?"
"Hell, don't worry about words. If you enjoyed making someone you like feel good there isn't anything else to concern yourself about. Certainly not some stupid handles like 'queer' or 'gay'. We're friends and that's all there is to it."
